


Blankets

by LadyYueh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling and Snuggling, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyYueh/pseuds/LadyYueh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cuddling + Sharing Blankets = True Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> Something sweet for all the angst.

“Dean?” his name was spoken in a hushed whisper designed not to cause disturbance. Of course, it was absurd when you considered that it was the voice used when someone was bothering someone.

In this case, Dean was warm and asleep and as happy as he could be after beating the ever-loving shit out of Lucifer and that merry band of angelic assholes that’d tried to fuck humanity over with extreme prejudice.

Apparently, he’d gotten his own guardian angel in the deal, too. Not that he was complaining. After having a heartbroken, half-fallen angel following them everywhere in the attempt to stop Hell’s devastation and Heaven’s machinations, it was nice to see the guy happy, vindicated, and all that righteous stuff.

Plus, when the angelic assholes had been told that Castiel had been one of the only few to follow God’s plan instead of his own agenda…well, Dean had been waiting for literal and very bloody explosions of the spontaneous combustion kind. Castiel assured him that angels couldn’t do that, but Dean had some problems believing him, Zachariah looked like he was going to pop something. Pompous self-serving fucktard deserved it.

Now, after everything, Dean appreciated that he could nap in the middle of the day without having to worry about hordes of demons or angels descending to crispify his ass. Cas popping in when he wanted to hang out was nice too. Sometimes _very_ nice, he thought with a dirty grin.

“Are you thinking about sex?”

Dean grumbled and refused to admit anything—though really, everyone knew the answer to that question was: always—as he opened his eyes lazily to look at the curious angel in his bed.

“‘M napping, Cas,” he mumbled.

“But—“

Dean shot a hand out to grasp Castiel’s arm and pull him into a horizontal position. “ **Sleeping,** ” he emphasized.

“Then I should—“

“Stay.”

“But you—“

“I’ll share my blankets.”

Castiel had been watching Dean’s languid form, fascinated by how still and contented he was. Dean had grudgingly given up a length of the warm fabric that had been a part of his cocoon.

Dean Winchester could tempt him to apparent rebellion and in comparison the enticement of gathering close to the slumbering, warm human for an hour or more seemed a negligible sin.

As soon as Castiel made the decision and burrowed close to Dean, the man wrapped his arms closely about Castiel and brought their physical forms as close as was permissible by the laws of physics in an action that Sam called ‘cuddling’ though Dean denied such a thing vehemently. Dean was completely encased in cloth save for the mess of hair that emerged as he laid his head on Castiel’s torso to be lulled by his vessel’s heartbeat. Castiel ran a hand lightly through Dean’s hair, letting the silken prickle soothe him as he watched and felt their auras mingle and coalesce as they had been wont to do since the beginning.

Dean’s weight, his presence, his very existence was such a comfort that between the span of heartbeats, he was asleep.

The blankets helped too.


End file.
